This painting was posted on Opera a few years back and was named “The Pod People”. For some reason, that name doesn’t fit. In fact, there is a movie with that name and after seeing the movie, the painting really needs a new name. Any ideas? The characters are a bit sinister and scary to me as they were before.

The image is not the greatest. There’s a portion of the frame at bottom left and, at one time, you could see grass on the bottom. I managed to get that cropped out but couldn’t get all the frame out as it would have cut out too much of the painting.

No, I still don’t have a digital camera. Even though they have dropped in price quite a bit, it is still not in my budget. Eventually I will get one.

One in a series of many ultra fine point, permanent marker drawings I’ve done over the the last three winters. Wish I could get the whole drawing onto the scanner but I’ll have to photograph all of them eventually. 11 1/2 x 14 on Bristol.

This is something that made it on the moving truck when I moved to Fargo. It is one of my treasures….a screen door ornament from the 1950’s. Some people might shake their heads and wonder why but that is just the way I am. I like things (sometimes odd things like this) from the 50’s mainly. It’s funny some people call it “mid-century” but then others think that is stuff from the 70’s. I guess it depends on when you grew up. If I had my way, and my own little house again, I’d decorate with 50’s era furniture. I left behind two oak chairs, a pole lamp with crystals, a ladder back chair, a coffee table, and many other things. It pains me when I think about the stuff that didn’t make it on the truck….but not so much anymore. There comes a time when one must ‘keep a stiff upper lip’. That is an old saying my grandmother used to say. Not sure what exactly it meant but, to myself, I always added: “even though the bottom one is quivering”.

Like a mist
it closes around me
I gasp for air
panic rises
in my throat
run
run fast
get away
before it surrounds

twinkle, twinkle
went the stars
and the sounds bombard
my brain
runs
to the corner
of my existence

hiding from reality they say
whoever THEY are

those around
profess to know
what’s best for me
yet no one
realizes

that only I know.

Like the floating
monstrous mass
in a dream
40 years ago
it gets closer,
closer still.

Then,
like the promises
it vanishes
in thin air.

I see my ceramic dog
in an exhibit
so many years ago
yet no one
not one person
held it with regard
to encourage me
yet here i am
50 years later
still the only one
holding that stupid
ceramic dog with
any regard

Back and forth
my thoughts go.
like broken fragments
of shattered glass
floating around
to and fro
up and down
like a seesaw.

Twinkle, twinkle
little stars.
Where art thou?
Flying thru the air
with the greatest of ease?
There goes the white
rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,
the ceramic dog close behind.
What time is it?
It’s time for lunch.

But where is my starry night?
The leaves have fallen.
The birds are gone.
The cold is here.

These chairs may be in my next painting. Photo courtesy of my son Michael Sabbia. He took a bunch at the community garden in downtown Phoenix. It doesn’t look like much is growing in certain places, but he got a lot of interesting photos.